


A Sense of Well-Being

by TritoneHorror



Category: Alice Isn't Dead (Podcast), The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: And During Part 2 of Alice isn't Dead, Canon-Typical Horror, Crossover, F/F, M/M, Nonlinear structure, POV Alternating, Starts around TMA Episode 107, Timeline What Timeline, spoilers for alice isn't dead
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:55:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26333011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TritoneHorror/pseuds/TritoneHorror
Summary: While in the United States an archivist crosses paths with a truck driver.A crossover between Alice isn't Dead and The Magnus Archives.
Relationships: Alice/Keisha | The Narrator (Alice Isn't Dead), Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 27





	A Sense of Well-Being

**Author's Note:**

> Alice isn't Dead is my favorite podcast/novel/work of fiction I've been bouncing this idea around since I caught up with TMA during Season 4. Now, a year later, I'm tossing some actually content out! Hope you enjoy it!

> _"Knock Knock_
> 
> **_Who's there?_ **
> 
> _A sense of well-being._
> 
> **_A sense of well-being who?_ **
> 
> _A sense of well-being. A touch of hand to snow. The way it feels good until it doesn't. The way it only hurts later. The way that the world seems lighter, as in illumination. And the way the world feels lighter, as in weight. And the way the world feels lighter, as in stress. The way it seems like we've hidden all that was ugly under our fresh start until the friction of our movement starts churning all that was hidden back to the surface. Because it always resurfaces, because the dead return, because light reverses. Aren't you glad I didn't run screaming into the wood, never heard from again physically, impossible to stop hearing memory-wise?" -_ Alice isn't Dead Part 2 Chapter 1 _  
> _

* * *

Keisha Taylor drove quietly - or as quiet as a large semi-truck allows. Sometimes when you spend so much time around a certain sound or smell they just kind of blend into your surroundings. The rumble of her diesel truck was Keisha's current background of familiarity, the noise there but lost to her ears. She drives the empty highway with the wonderful invention of cruise control and allows herself to unravel the thoughts in her mind. Her eyes drift to the CB radio on the dashboard.

She switches it on and holds the mic to her mouth. She begins to speak.

□□□

It's been a while. I've been busy. I guess you could say I've been a good Samaritan - helping others. You'd be proud of me, I think. At least you would be. Back before everything. Before you died. Now? Now, I don't know. There's a lot of unknowns now. And you are the biggest one. But I'm not alone in my not-knowing. I'm not the only one searching for answers. I met someone. Another person looking for his own answers and our search just happened to cross paths and we searched together - if only briefly.

Okay, I suppose I should start at the beginning. 

So remember when I told you I was avoiding rest stops now? Ever since Crystal Springs? I still do. I turn into busy gas stations and diners when I can but sometimes those just aren't an option. Sometimes the rest stops are there because there's no better alternative. I try to avoid those places but they always show up. Some things just can't be avoided.

… 

You can't keep avoiding me, Alice...

I stopped at a rest stop. It was pretty crowded - a Grayhound bus had stopped there and it's passengers were scattered around the place. Stretching their legs and taking in the fresh outdoor air before they set back out on their journey. A lot of them were huddled in groups chatting idly. But I found myself staring at this guy standing apart from the crowd. He stood out to me in ways I couldn't explain. 

He stood out in obvious ways too. His face was covered in these distinct pockmark scars. In one hand he held a cell phone up to his ear, and his other held a cigarette. Except the hand holding the cigarette was bandaged. Bandaged enough to cover his whole palm. I watched him sigh as he put his phone away and took a drag of his cigarette. I remember having the faint embarrassed thought that he was going to catch me staring but his gaze landed elsewhere. To be honest, I don't know why I was staring but if I hadn't been then I wouldn't have seen his body tense up and his eyes widen ever so slightly. I wouldn't have recognized the familiar feeling of fear. I followed his gaze across the parking lot and there was a cop, leaning against the hood of his car staring back at the man. 

When I saw the cop my gut twisted into knots. I didn't recognize him but I recognized the feelings he gave me. I thought of the cop that showed up in a Target parking lot when I was attacked by the Hungry man. The cop that gave me a warning and followed behind my truck for miles. This was not that cop. Nor was it the woman dressed as a cop that pulled me over recently. This was not the Hungry man or a Thistle man. But when I looked at that cop it felt the same. That cop was _wrong_. I could tell immediately tell they weren't actually a cop but a monster.

This was _another_ monster pretending to be human. 

Around us the passengers were filling back into the bus. The man with the pockmark scars and bandaged hand didn't move. The Police officer that was definitely NOT a police offer was in the parking lot between him and the bus. It was like the cop was taunting him - just daring him to get any closer. The scarred man stood frozen.

… 

I don't know why I did what I did next but I don't regret it. 

I walked over to the man, making sure to step between him and the Not Cop. I was terrified. But I'm getting better at not running away from what scares me. So I walked up to this man who looked about as scared as I felt. When he saw me he looked at me with guarded suspicion. I asked him if he needed a ride. That only confused him more. 

"Excuse me?" He spoke with a vague accent - not American. 

"It looks like you're being threatened." I spoke in hushed tones. As if that could keep us safe from the monster behind me. "Would you like a ride? My truck is over here."

As I spoke his eyes darted back and forth between me and the Not cop. I could tell he was calculating which was the bigger threat. 

" _Who are you?_ " He asked. And I felt like I had no choice but to tell him.

"I'm Keisha Taylor. I'm a truck driver- kind of. I've seen things on the highways and I can tell that whoever, or whatever, that thing by the cop car is that it means you harm. I just want to help."

The man blinked at me, mouth open slightly. He looked as if the possibility of someone offering him help was a concept he had never faced before. Then he looked back over my shoulder to the Not Cop and I saw his eyes widen a bit. That was all I needed to know the Not Cop was walking toward us. The man looked back to me, his mind made up.

I lead him to the truck. Both of us trying and failing to ignore the Not Cop that was slowly tracking us. I helped him climb into the truck and drove as fast as I reasonably could. I think we both held our breath until we were back on the interstate. 

His name is Jon. Works for some institute in London. We traveled together for a while after that.

We shared our stories with each other. He's looking for answers too. And his search brought him here. 

… 

He's given me a lot to think about. I hope he's doing okay.

I hope you're doing okay, too.

I'm going to hold onto that hope. Maybe one day, when we've escaped the things that chase us we'll visit London ourselves. I'd like that.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey thanks for checking this out!  
> More coming soon (Hopefully)!  
> I am always open to talk about Alice isn't Dead or The Magnus Archives. You can find me on tumblr @nonbinarycrab


End file.
